


Blades and Sunshine

by VintageSkies



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, Cullen Fluff, Cullen Rutherford Fluff, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Haven, OTP: Fluffy Puppy of Skyhold, Skyhold, commander cullen - Freeform, lion of skyhold, working out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 12:25:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3529376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VintageSkies/pseuds/VintageSkies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jayde Trevelyan, (female mage) has just gotten to Skyhold and has some developing feelings for Cullen, but she doesn’t know how to express them. She wants to impress him though, so she wakes up extra early a few days a week to work out before the soldiers do. Little does she know, Cullen wakes up for an early morning run just outside Skyhold. Fluff and cuteness ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blades and Sunshine

Footsteps echo across the battlements. Jayde sighs, her breath hanging in the air around her. The morning sun is just barely pulling itself over the horizon but the golden rays still manage to sneak up and tickle her cheek. For a moment, it seems as if the whole world is asleep. Sometimes, after Haven, everything really does feel like a dream.

With another sigh, Jayde grabs her staff and trudges towards the stairs to the training area below. The familiar feel of dirt below her feet brings a brief smile to her face right before her brows furrow with contemplation. A quick glance around – it would not be uncommon for some of the servants to be attending to early morning duties – but the entirety of Skyhold remains motionless. She places her staff on the ground between two rugged training dummies and stands back, arms folded. _Now what?_

Shoulders squared, arms up. She tries to mimic the instructions she purposefully overheard so many times. Sometimes, it was genuine curiosity and desire for knowledge that led her to listen to the new recruits’ training; other times, it was just to listen to the voice of the man giving the orders.

Commander Cullen was a fierce leader when it came to the Inquisition’s forces, but the soldiers loved him; they respected him. He cared for them immensely; it was obvious in the way he defended them at the war table and fretted over their safety when he thought no one was looking. The problem for him was: Jayde was always looking.

She was always looking at the way he draped his hands over the hilt of his sword, the way he touched the back of his head when he got nervous, the way the right side of his mouth raised ever-so-slightly higher than the left whenever he smiled.

For a moment, she stood there, completely out of the sun’s rays, yet her body was warm with a slowly-spreading sensation of bliss that emanated from her chest. Whenever she thought of him, she could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. Whenever she saw him, she felt her stomach tighten and flip. Not even Thedas’ best healer could fix that.

Jayde opens her eyes and wiggles her fingers. Even against the grating chill, they manage to keep some of their warmth. She takes another glance around in case someone decided to sneak up during her little daydream, which, she had to admit, seemed to occur with more frequency after Haven.

From the corner of her eye, she catches the brief glimmer of steel and moves towards it. Against the stone wall, a rather plain longsword with a crossweave leather hilt leans at a near perfect forty-five degree angle. She looks from side to side once more, completely sure this blade wasn’t there a moment ago. Seeing and hearing nothing, she shrugs to herself and steps forward.

She places one hand against the hilt and the pattern of the leather feels foreign against her skin. She tries to lift it, but finds the steel heavier than she imagined. With both hands, she lifts the blade and gives it a few practice swings. She looks longingly over at her staff, her favorite staff, a gift from an old friend. The weight distribution of her newfound weapon throws her off tremendously, though she refuses to be swayed from the idea.

After a few minutes, she feels comfortable enough to lunge a practice stroke towards the dummy. The blade penetrates the burlap-like material and her eyes widen in semi-shock and horror. Quickly, she pulls the blade towards her and immediately runs her fingers across the tear. It’s easily fixable, but she can’t remember where she put her –

“Inquisitor?”

She jumps and nearly drops the sword on her own foot as she turns to address the silent perpetrator.

“C-cullen? What’re you...” she swallows, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks already. She tries to ignore the damp undershirt with a v-shaped tear at the chest, the loose cotton pants, the disheveled hair that sticks to the side of his face in uneven clumps.

“I think the better question is, what are _you_ doing here?” He tries hard to disguise his lack of breath, but his heaving chest makes it obvious. He tilts his head, then immediately adds, “uh, not that you _can’t_ be here, you’re Jayde, of course. It’s just that you, well, I didn’t expect, I mean-”

He’s interrupted as she stabs the sword into the ground. He flinches at the thought of dulling the blade, but he doesn’t say anything. She turns around and picks up her staff with an internal sigh of relief.

“I was just…well, now that I’ve been named Inquisitor, I thought it was important to,” she laces her fingers together as she leans on her staff and shrugs, “train.”

“Ah, yes. Well, might I suggest _not_ using a sharp sword against a practice dummy?” He touches the back of his head and her face turns a brighter shade of red. Inside, the barrage of self-deprecating was starting to hum in the back of his mind. _Had he really just said that? Why did he say that out loud? Maker, let him take it back._

“I, uhm, well, it was the only thing here besides my staff, and” she shakes her head, her heart racing more now than it was when she was actually practicing. _Did she sense frustration in his voice? Was he upset about the sword? Why did she decide this was a good idea in the first place?_ “You never answered my question.”

“Right! Well, I,” he takes another deep breath, his normal breathing eluding him and only adding to his growing embarrassment, “I normally go for a run just outside Skyhold in the morning. It helps me focus and keeps my mind off l-” he catches himself almost too late, “off Haven.” He feels a bead of sweat running down his temple, though he can’t tell if it’s from the physical or mental exertion.

“Where do you go?” she rubs her thumbs together behind her staff to keep her mind focused on something other than the rising warmth of her stomach and chest. She watches as he opens his mouth and she’s entirely sure words are coming out, but she realizes, as his lips stop moving, that she’s heard none of them.

“Oh, that’s, uh, good.” She clenches her lips together and mutters a curse under her breath. Her heart flutters as he chuckles, his voice soft and low like the growing sunlight. She stands, still leaning on her staff, unaware of the smile that slowly spreads across her lips. Cullen turns his head, tries to look away, but finds himself stealing a glance back at her with one of those asymmetrical smirks.

“Would you-” they both begin at once.

“Go ahead,” she urges, shaking her head.

“No, you,” he runs his hand through his hair, his fingers getting caught in the wind-knotted clump at the base of his neck.

She taps the flesh of her fingertips against her staff. “Would you, uhm, perhaps be able to find some time to, uh, help me train?”

“I would…love to.” He exhales; the cloud of quickly-dissipating steam barely hides the broad smile.

**Author's Note:**

> maybe one day this will be worked into a larger piece encompassing their relationship. 
> 
> Also, visit http://qunaributts.tumblr.com/post/111037411918/ulterior-motives for another version of this, written in-tandem with this one.


End file.
